


Evergreen

by joethelion



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Everyone is a gay disaster, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Sad breakfast sandwiches, Sanvers - Freeform, Supercorp - Freeform, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 12:52:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9441152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joethelion/pseuds/joethelion
Summary: Alex is pretty sure she’s never been more wrong about something in her life. She’s not heartbroken; she just misses Maggie with all her heart.Or, Lena Luthor inadvertently saves the world by just existing.





	

“Supergirl has gone where? A parallel earth? That’s DEO territory, not NCPD.”

And because Maggie’s response (nonchalant, sane) should not make perfect sense to anyone normal, somewhere, anywhere; she hopes Lena Luthor is one of those people. Because what she just said to Luthor is utterly insane. Maggie deals with Aliens (normal), and straight-forward murder cases (normal). Throw in parallel worlds and Jesus take the wheel.

It makes _sense_  tho, that Lena Luthor would come to her because the DEO is an agency that officially doesn't exist and one would like to avoid if an agency like that did exist. Lena showing up at her desk pretty much shouldn't happen and talking about parallel universes is for secret government agencies, but Maggie’s seen the way Lena looks at Supergirl and then there's the whole Luther/Super history, so sure, of course, they can talk about parallel universes if Lena wants too. 

Maggie’s first thought is  _Danvers didn’t call me, because if Supergirl is missing… what the fuck_ —but trying to be the world’s most understanding, experienced and supportive lesbian is actually turning out awful for her.

She’s spent the last two weeks wondering why she's thinking about Alex at all now, because Alex made herself clear in the precinct garage—and she wasn’t wrong, that’s the thing—and Maggie really can’t keep fucking herself up like this. First, her fiancée and now—and now, there’s Alex. Maggie and Alex both work too much, and so what, that’s just a normal, run of the mill pathology. It's not in the DSM-5.

“It’s not time-travel, right?” Maggie lowers her cup of coffee and politely gives Lena Luthor her entire attention.

Lena looks at Maggie, amused, “No, Detective Sawyer. Time travel is allowed for: a) traveling around a spinning universe, b) traveling around a spinning cylinder which is infinitely long, c) traveling around two colliding cosmic strings, d) traveling through a spinning black hole, e) stretching or compressing space via negative matter, and f) traveling through a wormhole.”

Maggie ignores the low-key science drag, “And you haven’t seen her in a few days.”

“She disappeared in front of me.” 

“Ah, yeah. I know how that is,” Maggie nods, sagely.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

* * *

For two weeks Maggie’s been trying not to think of how she feels when Alex dips her head, and slowly sucks on her bottom lip after a few seconds of just hovering, and _God_ , Alex’s eyes are lethal—and she tries not to imagine trading more kisses like that, deep and slow, for long moments, until Alex pulls back, stroking her cheek and staring—and Maggie realizes, unfortunately, that right now she’s actually fixated on Lena Luthor’s mouth wondering what the hell her face just did, because holy shit, Imaginary Alex Danvers can kiss.

Lena Luthor is perfect. She might actually be a unicorn. She doesn’t acknowledge that Maggie just went very deep into a pretty lovely fantasy and instead, just kind of… raises a polite, perfect eyebrow and repeats herself, “Supergirl is missing.” 

Detective Maggie Sawyer is really good at her job, and in a purely academic sense, what Lena has just dropped in her lap is nearly impossible. Supergirl doesn’t disappear through the fabric of space/time. She loved physics in school, but it’s really a situation she’s absolutely sure falls outside her jurisdiction. She’s a cop; she’s not a genius science super secret agent nerd.

“Supergirl is probably taking a vacation. She needs one—” Maggie goes back to her sad breakfast sandwich and flushes slowly, “I need one,” she mumbles.

There’s no protocol for putting out a missing person alert on someone with god-like powers, a killer super fluffy haircut who knows some fucking alien karate. 

“Detective,” Lena asks, “Is this a bad time?”

The response that comes to mind is definitely not a “no”. It should be because just the tone of Luthor’s voice is triggering her—she wants to find Alex and kiss her senseless again in her surprisingly hot subconscious, imaginary world—so right now Maggie’s just hoping her voice is steady and prepared and does not sound like she’s about to pass out. “I don’t know a hell of a lot about parallel universes, but I can put you in touch—”

* * *

Alex finally looks up from her paperwork, thankfully, saving Maggie before she can say anything else more ridiculous than she already has. Supergirl has _so not_ disappeared into another universe; that much is clear. Lena Luthor should be the one sounding like an idiot right now. Maggie gives up on explaining whatever and then collapses internally with a helpless little shrug. 

“What do you think I can do about it?” Alex sighs, feigning slightly appalled disinterest, because FBI agents shouldn’t really know about multi-dimensional continuums either, technically. And then she turns to Lena after scanning Maggie’s face and seeing— _something—_ that helps her make a decision. Maggie and Alex look at each other in a weirdly pleasant, nervous silence for a bit until Maggie gets a little tired of her face again doing whatever it’s decided to do without her consent. 

“Hello, Agent Danvers,” Lena clears her throat, looking between them, “I never got to properly thank you.”

“And the Agency never properly debriefed you,” Alex smiles, taking the sting out of it. It’s not every day your brother tries to assassinate you twice.

Usually, when Lena Luthor shows up somewhere people immediately take a few steps backward. There are the rumors that she hates children, has affairs with her staff, kills them afterward and uses the stiletto of her boot to torture the L-Corp Board of Directors one by one on her yacht. Or maybe she’s just disarmingly cool and nice. She seems really nice.

“Do you know where Supergirl is?” Lena asks for the eighth time, bluntly.

“I… yes?” Alex says, before standing and crossing her arms and then relaxing sheepishly a little bit. Maggie hides a smile; she can’t help it. Alex may be angry with her but she’s endearingly transparent. She’s adorable.

“Supergirl is perfectly fine, Miss Luthor.”

“Wait. What?” Lena breathes out slowly, “I come to you and tell you something I know to be true—I _saw_ Supergirl disappear through a portal of some kind and you’re saying—“

Alex stares at Lena and manages to not roll her eyes. Maggie is proud of her.

“I’m extremely close to her,” and bless Alex but she’s awesomely oblivious to both Lena and Maggie going hilariously defensive, “Supergirl and I do work together on very rare occasions, and I know exactly where she is,” She holds up something that looks like a bedazzled pager, “we’re monitoring the situation.” 

That gets Maggie’s attention, “What situation, Danvers?”

“Excuse me?” Alex barks back. 

Maggie could give a shit about the sharp jolt of pleasure her body insists on feeling. Alex is acting like a dick; so what if Maggie loves it. Maggie’s heart was recently broken—she’s not dead.

“What are you doing with Cadmus?” Lena interrupts them, very sharply.

“I’m—what?” Alex swivels around, eyes narrowed.

“Don’t be stupid,” Lena is now upset. Lena angry is a whole different level, and both Alex and Maggie note it and file it away as something they want to avoid forever, “Tell me what I saw. Because it certainly _looked_ like Supergirl disappeared in a maelstrom of mercurial dimensional froth. But if this has to do with Cadmus—“

“Why would you even suggest that, Miss Luthor?” Alex asks, annoyed now, before swatting Maggie’s hand away from where she’s unconsciously placed it on her lower back to calm her down.  

“I am a _Luthor_ ,” Lena enunciates softly like she’s speaking to toddlers—and oh damn, that's an unexpected level of self-loathing—one that Alex really knows in her bones, “so maybe you should just tell me how I can help?”

“She’s talked about you,” Alex says—and Alex goes from being stone-cold to so completely open and lovely, in a second, that Maggie has to blink—because fuck, Maggie really misses this Alex, “She trusts you.”

Lena softens, and sighs and Alex is pretty aware that there’s a whole world going on that should have been intensely obvious by now. It’s so obvious she feels like she’s legitimately the stupidest person she knows. Lena Luthor has a thing for Supergirl. Great. Because, what.

“Hey,” Alex says, “Hey, I think it’s— I can’t imagine being her, you know? She probably just needs some friends, and she’s met some other superheroes on other worlds, that’s all,” she says, “I think it’s really fine, okay?”

“I’m not my brother,” Lena’s face is tentatively blank. 

Alex flinches, which earns her a quick assessing glance from Maggie, who deflects and raises some random concerns, “Is this all classified? Because that’s— “

Lena steps away automatically, apparently satisfied that Supergirl isn’t dead, at least, but then she reaches for two business cards and hands them to Maggie and Alex.

"Keep them," Lena says, softly, “And... you need to know something about me. I believe in science and the free market the way I believe in a God particle. They're all interesting thought experiments—some of which might even be true. The observer becomes the observed, etc. I’m not one of those people who have to make sure the world is true. My brother thought he did and so does my mother. I think that’s a fatal mistake.”

When neither woman responds, Lena walks into Alex’s personal space. It’s not a challenge; it’s just because she can. Alex goes instinctively gentle, and then just raises her eyes again and encourages Lena to go on.

“People whose business it is to know about how this world and it’s laws work—its ethics, it's ideas of good and evil, right and wrong—tell me that my family is the cause of most of what’s dangerous and chaotic to the greater good. And they tell me that if I wanted to devote my life to the good and enter public service I can make a difference. I believe them. And then I met a reporter, Agent Danvers. I met your sister Kara. And now I have my first friend in this city. My first friend in a very long time… Supergirl likes Kara, and protects her a bit, I think. That’s why I was worried,” Lena gathers her coat and turns to smile at them both.

“When you’re ready to talk about Cadmus, you can call me. Tell Supergirl, when you see her, that I—well, I’d like to thank her for putting me at ease.”

* * *

After Lena leaves, Maggie would ask Alex if she wanted to get a quick dinner, but she doesn’t want to be obliviously offensive again.

She wishes she had a different set of rules, sometimes. She wishes she was normal; that she landed somewhere on the very ordinary spectrum of being human and knew what other people needed from her, from a shared life. She's destroyed people who loved her—underestimated what she was capable of giving someone.  

The neurons in her brain are inefficient in certain areas. Like, really inefficient. It makes her unreliable, a _sociopath_ —she’s lost people—her only friends are other cops. Her brain leaks signals and misses her heart entirely—gets things wrong and her mind and heart are generally awful to each other. They’re so lousy at getting along that Maggie needs lots and lots of misfiring neurons to be at all intelligent about people she loves. What this means is she’s really bad at relationships. Except she got one thing right in the last couple of months—she knows she did.

_No, it's real. You're real, and you deserve to have a real, full, happy life. Okay? Tell your family. This is the biggest thing that's ever happened to you, and you shouldn't have to do it alone._

_I have you._

_Yeah, you do. And I'm good for a drink when you come out._

_You promise?_

“I can hear you thinking, Sawyer,” Alex says, quietly.

When Maggie looks up and does that head tilt and gives Alex a wonderful, easy and open smile—the one that makes Alex go stupid and slow and tender—Alex almost laughs. It’s such a wonderful feeling being around Maggie. It hurts so fucking much; it's like tasting her own blood, it’s private—a fire that pops and hisses softly in the surrounding mist and rain. Maggie will break her heart. But it's a strange, wonderful feeling.

“You have the most amazing dimples,” Alex turns to her, and briefly draws her finger along Maggie’s jaw, wistful, “They’re a pretty unique architecture—did you know that? The zygomaticus is the muscle responsible for smiling. Certain people have shortened zygomaticus muscles, some with forked ends—so if you’re lucky, you get dimples. Do you hate yours? People who have them usually don’t want them; people who don’t have them—want them.”

Alex is pretty sure she’s never been more wrong about something in her life. She’s not heartbroken; she just misses Maggie with all her heart. She doesn’t know how this happened. It was probably an alchemy buried in the most terrifying thing a person can be—themselves. Alex is just naked right now. She’s not angry because she knows what she did—she put herself in the middle of the storm and handed her life over to someone else, to Maggie. And knowing she did that without reservation is the only reason she can recognize herself in the mirror when she wakes up now. Who Alex turns out to be is reverence—and as a scientist, she should have known that. Mastery over anything or anyone, even herself, doesn’t matter now anyway. 

Alex steps in closer and Maggie doesn’t move, “You owe me a game of pool, Sawyer.”

“Cross my heart,” Maggie murmurs.

* * *

Maggie’s rolling a joint when Supergirl flies through her window, unannounced. 

Maggie takes in a very, very deep breath, and then just says, “Relax, it’s medical. I’m suffering from temporary, severe anxiety. Bad break-up.”

“Someone broke up with you?” Supergirl asks, horrified, and Maggie looks up and laughs, it’s so much like how Alex reacted—

“Yeah,” Maggie nods, licking at the paper and then offering it to the Caped Wonder. 

“It wouldn’t do anything for me,“ Supergirl shakes her head, sadly.

“Yes, someone broke up with me, baby Supes,” Maggie says, and then sighs.  “I’m—shit, look—I know you and Alex are close so...”

“This breakup, divorce, whatever it was, happened around the time you and Alex started hanging out, right?” Supergirl asks, taking the lighter from Maggie and playing with it absently.

“I think it was like, a week after we met.”

“Ugh?” Supergirl asks, raising her eyebrows. And Maggie thinks for a hairy second that she should know what Supergirl means by “ugh”, but sadly she doesn’t, and she worries briefly for her safety.

“You know, I wanted to actually deck you but now I can’t,” Supergirl looks Super Pissed, “but I might slap the crap out of Alex.”

“I know, right? _Thank you_.” Maggie says, squinting at Supergirl in a riot of happiness that someone is being fucking sensible with zero drama, for once. Alien girls are wonderful and a blessing—Supergirl actually gets the fact that most people would be a pathetic, needy mess for months after a break-up like hers.

Maggie leans back against her couch and watches Supergirl, and there’s a moment where they’re actually almost giggling at each other. And then Supergirl smiles at her faintly and nods in understanding.

The woman is beautiful, Maggie decides, really startlingly beautiful. It’s her goodness, she thinks. It’s her darkness. Neither of which the Kryptonian knows very well, at all, yet.

“You need to go let Lena Luthor know you’re okay.” Maggie murmurs.

Supergirl nods and turns to go. Right now they know each other better than anyone, “You should do the same, Detective Sawyer. I’ve got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own. Not for Profit.


End file.
